Column:
Not funny, you say? Them's fightin' words
Published Oct. 24, 2006
Children, the beast has struck back.
On Friday, a young cove named Nick Trusty wrote a guest column about how a column I wrote more than a month ago was offensive. He said my column was racist, and in essence branded me as the worst thing possible — an enemy of diversity.
Many have called for my termination before; this is nothing new, nor is it a big deal. If it weren't for one little detail, I would have simply told him to kiss my ass, and that would have been that.
What little detail, you ask? Well, any time someone writes something critical of me, I check out his or her Facebook page. I'm behooved to find out exactly who disapproves of me. The first thing I noticed was that Trusty appears to be white. That's cool. It's just that no one else (white, black, or otherwise) had yet taken issue with the column. I guess the leaders of the Legion of Black Collegians were too busy to write me about their outrage.
The second thing I noticed was that this man likes Jack Johnson, G. Love and Black Eyed Peas. Ergo, I knew he was a puss.
Third, (and here's the bombshell) I found out that he is "in a relationship" with Michelle Compton. I had the pleasure of meeting Compton a few weeks back, and I will say that she seemed a very nice girl, and I have no issue with her personally. However, the context of our meeting is what makes things suspicious.
I met her when I was trying to sign up for the Missouri Students Association presidential election. She is the chairwoman of the Board of Elections Commissioners, the very group that controls and pre-censors all campaign materials and runs the candidate training (or indoctrinating) classes. I think that makes him a shill for the group of the administration's stooges.
So, to recap: I take issue with the system on campus that suppresses speech and cheapens democracy, and voice my opposition. Then, the boyfriend of one deeply entrenched in the system comes out with a disgraceful, and delayed, hatchet-job.
The realists out there might dismissively say, "Hey, that's politics." Not me. I say, "Poppycock!" These are the desperate lashings-out of people who fear their time is up. They know they don't do anything; they don't make any meaningful decisions, and they don't truly represent us.
To some, having a leading member of student government insinuate that they are racist, stupid or, worst of all, not funny, is a bad sign. Not I; I see in this that they are worried. They are worried about losing the cushy positions and titles that they only have because no one cared to vote in the elections they won.
I only find it fitting to end my column by quoting Claude McKay to you phonies and cronies who stand in my way. I suppose I can't win your election, because you make the rules, but I can fight and speak for the rest of us who don't give a shit about student government, or at least aspire to one day sell out as hard as you have.
"If we must die, O let us nobly die, so that our precious blood may not be shed in vain; then even the monsters we defy shall be constrained to honor us though dead! O kinsmen we must meet the common foe! Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!"
